


a little unsteady

by BelieveMePlease



Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16258016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelieveMePlease/pseuds/BelieveMePlease
Summary: Owen almost doesn’t have the heart to disturb him, but the overwhelming need to know with absolute certainty that George is okay makes him forget any hesitation before he even has the chance to recognise it.





	a little unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> Envisaged as a 'what if' scenario for the Sarries-Bath game in March 2017. Don't know why Maitland's try and George small stumble in that game have always stuck with me, but a year and a half later it led to this being born.  
> Moment I've expanded upon, implied that George actually got hurt from, can be seen at 1:10 here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIP-yZEALLw

There are no lights on in the room and there’s only a crack of light sneaking underneath the window blinds, but it’s enough for Owen to make George out. Curling up on his side on the physiotherapy bench with a towel wrapped ice pack pressing to the relaxed brow above closed and clearly tired eyes. He looks so small and vulnerable that if they didn’t know better, someone might say he looks more like an eight year old injured in a playtime football game than he does a seasoned athlete. Owen almost doesn’t have the heart to disturb him, but the overwhelming  _need_ to know with absolute certainty that George is okay makes him forget any hesitation before he even has the chance to recognise it.

“Hey,” it’s barely above a whisper and Owen isn’t sure George even hears him when he takes a moment to react. 

Eyes flickering open and taking a moment to focus, George blearily searches out the source of the interruption and smiles as profusely as he can in his state when he recognises Owen at the door. “Hey,” he responds, voice hardly any louder than Owen’s had been around the mysterious croak that seems to have formed in his throat over the course of his nap. 

 The affirmation has Owen grinning and heading into the room towards George. He leaves the door halfway open for the assistance of light from the hallway without having to startle George’s rattled and sore head. When George moves to sit up, Owen scowls and quickly ushers him back down.

 “Hey, no,” Owen warns and sits himself up on the bench instead, pulling George’s head to rest half in his lap and half against his abdomen. Owen’s hands settle to pet through George’s hair and to hold the ice pack against his forehead for him. “Alright?” 

 George hums with content at the new position, but quietly groans barely a second later. “I’ve got a proper headache.” 

 It’s a struggle for Owen not to wince at just how pained George sounds -he’s pretty sure he’s still shaking from the worry that’s been coursing through him for nearly the past hour. He tries to cover it with a meagre huff of a laugh, “Yeah, I’ll bet.” 

 There are a few blissful beats of silence between them where they simply absorb each other’s presence. This afternoon hasn’t exactly been the epitome of fun for either of them, but that all sinks into irrelevance now that they’re finally reunited with the familiar comfort they require most. Owen moves the hand in George’s hair to rest against the top of his back and run in large circles. He pauses where he knows George’s heart would lie underneath the layers of flesh and bone and takes a moment to merely breathe. George is here with him and he’s perfectly okay, if a little worse for wear, and there is no need to worry any longer. That thought does the best job at calming the worst of the trembles, but they still refuse to cease. If anything, the action brings George’s attention to Owen’s state and he brings a hand up to rest on his tummy where his own head is laid. 

 “Don’t be too mad at him,” George tries, thumb moving in imprecise rhythms in an attempt at comfort. The state of his voice, slow and croaky and slightly slurred, doesn’t exactly fill Owen with the greatest desire to follow George’s request. 

 “Hmm?” Owen hums, light and major, hoping it’ll mask his true anger at the incident and man in question, “Maitland? He should’ve been more careful.” 

 “So should I. He was the one with the ball.” George points out, but there’s no substance behind the words -he knows Owen won’t be having any of it. 

 “Don’t try and insult yourself in front of me, Georgie, you should know that it won’t work.” Owen can’t help but laugh slightly at his own words. Maybe he is feeling a little better about it now he’s sure George is fine; perhaps he could even talk to Maitland about it later without it ending in another bust up. 

 “Wasn’t an insult,” George mumbles, but apparently figures that he ought to drop the subject and let Owen figure it out on his own. “You okay now?” 

 Considering lying would be pointless. Even if George didn’t know him like the back of his own hand, the way he still couldn’t control his shivers would have had anyone unconvinced. “Not really.” 

 “You didn’t lose, did you?” It’s said around a light bubble of laughter and it makes Owen smile, makes him beam, even. Despite the fact that George is the one lying here, head probably pounding to high heaven, he’s still the one giving comfort in the exact ways he knows Owen needs. Had their places been reversed, Owen isn’t sure he’d have the same selfless drive to do so. 

 “Nah we just about scraped it,” Owen plays along. George no doubt already knows the actual score, one  or two of his teammates probably having popped their heads round to inform him of the absolute pummeling they’d taken. “Sorry about that.” 

 “Eh, it’s okay,” George yawns and snuggles himself in even deeper, nose nuzzling against Owen’s bellybutton and muffling his already fractured voice. It’s a good thing Owen could decipher him no matter how distorted he got. “Not like I’ll be playing with them next season, should probably start learning not to feel sorry for them losing.” 

 It falls quiet again after that, Owen letting George shift continuously in the desire for comfort with only the sound of their synced breaths to give background noise. There is a bit of extra shuffling from a short way off and Owen is sure that a few of the Bath lads, maybe even some of his own team, have gathered to spy on them through the open door. He doesn’t look, isn’t bothered if they see them. If anything, he hopes his love and care for George is clear enough. After abandoning George to injury while he went out to play a second half, joined in with celebrations, he isn’t confident that he’s come across as the best boyfriend. That definitely needs fixing.

 “I’m gonna ask Todd if I can bring you home with me, okay?” The break in silence makes George twist his neck to look up at Owen for the first time since they’d settled into their position. The small smile on his face distracts perfectly from the weariness in his eyes. Owen moves his hand to pet over George’s hair once again, removing the ice pack in favour of stroking his thumb over his cheek. “Need to take care of you.”

 George snorts rather ungraciously and finally shifts so that he’s no longer resting against Owen, but lying next to him, “Owen, you couldn’t take care of a houseplant.” 

 “Alright then, what do you suggest?” Owen’s smile reaches his eyes for the first time all afternoon. Those familiar crinkles have George beaming right back.

 “Hmm,” George ponders playfully, tilting his head so that he can leave a kiss against Owen’s thigh, “How about I just look after myself and you look after  _your_ - _own_ -self for a change and give me a break from it?” 

 Finally, Owen can laugh properly, and it feels brilliant. Even though it had only been an hour or so, the worry had begun to make him feel starved. Leaning down, he returns George’s earlier kiss, but to his lips instead and brushes their noses together softly. 

 “Deal.” 

 Finding Todd can wait until later. For now, George is with him and he’s smiling and he’s happy and he’s breathing and he’s  _okay_.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a small exercise to try and cure my writers block on the sequel to Linger, but I liked it enough to want to post it for you all.  
> There was a whole build up storyline before this little end scene, but this is the part I truly loved and wanted to share. However, if you do want me to post the rest just let me know, I'm open to it.  
> Your comments and kudos are always so much appreciated x


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